


YURI!!! on Fire

by glassteacup



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Firefighters, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Christophe Giacometti, POV Phichit Chulanont, POV Victor Nikiforov, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Police
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12056313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassteacup/pseuds/glassteacup
Summary: Poor Potya is stuck up a tree and Makka-mutt and his marbles for brains of an owner Viktor are to blame. Luckily, help is on the way!





	1. Chapter 1

Yuri is going to kill Viktor. 

No, scratch that. Kill is too kind an act for the likes of Viktor. Yuri is going to drop kick Viktor down a canyon. With luck, a roaming band of starving bears and coyotes will stumble upon him. It’s a potential disservice to the wild animal community if they choke on Viktor's bones but at the rate the situation is escalating, that's a risk that Yuri is willing to take. 

Even now, Viktor and his overgrown shaggy mutt of a poodle are circling around the trunk of the tree as if they had marbles for brains. 

Poor Potya’s eyes are narrowed into thin slits and her tail is a blur, flicking around too fast to track. And, for the past ten minutes of this ordeal, she's been hosting a one cat concert. 

“Get away from the tree,” Yuri hisses. 

Viktor turns around, raking his hand through his hair. 

Yuri notes with grim satisfaction that the hair looks like it's thinning on top and Viktor's forehead is shining brightly in the afternoon sun. Good. It'll help the coyotes spot him more easily. 

“I'm so sorry, Yura. I forgot you just adopted a cat. Makkachin meant well.” 

Legitimate remorse and concern clouds Viktor's eyes. It only pours gasoline on top of Yuri’s anger. “You're not allowed to feel sorry. You're making the situation worse right now. Potya thinks you're stalking her,” he barks back. 

“We’re keeping watch to ensure she stays put,” Viktor says evenly. “Or would you prefer she ran down the other side of the tree and into the street?”

Yuri doesn't have a witty comeback at the ready. He’s pretty sure that won’t happen - Potya is smart - but it’s a gamble he’s not willing to take when Potya’s life is on the line. He glares at Viktor, willing a suitable comeback to materialize. 

Instead, what comes cruising around the corner is a fire truck. And it is most definitely coming to a stop and pulling up right next to them. 

What. In. The. Actual. Fuck.

“You called the fire department?” Yuri is feeling faint. 

One look at Viktor's face is enough for an answer - it's as red as the truck. 

“I did not. I texted Chris at dispatch,” Viktor says stiffly. His lip is curled in disgust, clearly offended at the suggestion that he would do something so distasteful. “This is his idea of a joke.”

Yuri snickers. There's always been a good-natured rivalry between the police and fire departments but ever since Commissioners Feltsman and Baranovskaya divorced last year, relations between the two departments have been frosty. With his aim set firmly for the police commissioner seat, Viktor is neck deep in the squabbling and politics. 

As bad as it is for Yuri to have firefighters showing up, it's exponentially more humiliating for Viktor to have a fire truck rolling up at the scene of his crime. This is too delicious and almost worth it to have Potya stuck in the tree.

The doors to the truck open and the crew start piling out, stretching their limbs. Naturally, they're all dressed up in full gear, ready for any emergency more pressing than cats in trees. Yuri is torn between fighting down the burst of excitement to wanting to climb the tree as well. He decides to stand his ground as one firefighter peels away from the group to approach. 

The fireman lifts off his helmet and extends a hand. “Hi, I'm - ”

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Yuri half yelps, half squeaks in shock. He claps a hand across his traitorous mouth. A glance down at the embroidered name patch across the top right of the jacket confirms it. 

“Oh. You know me?” Yuuri says. 

Yuuri's face is a ruddy pink. His eyes are wide, blinking quickly. It’s unfairly and objectively attractive. 

The note of curiosity and confusion in Yuuri's voice has Yuri taken aback. What kind of shitty question is that? Everyone knows - or _should_ know Yuuri Katsuki. He’s the youngest captain of a fire ladder in the city, performs daring rescues on the regular, and is in high demand to give lectures around the country on innovative fire fighting and prevention techniques. 

Yuri has a Google news alert set for Yuuri's name and there's a signed book that he won on eBay last night arriving on Friday via express mail because only chumps wait for standard shipping. 

Viktor may think that Yuri switched career tracks from policeman to firefighter to piss him off but that is only an excellent side benefit. The truth is, ever since Yuri saw the news coverage of Yuuri emerging from a burning apartment building with two kittens wrapped in a blanket, he knew he found his true calling in life. 

A better question might be who _doesn't_ know Yuuri. 

“I saw you on the news,” Yuri mumbles, eyes downcast. Yuuri in full uniform is even more impressive to see in person. 

Viktor reaches out and grabs Yuuri's hand like the utter heathen he is, pumping it up and down enthusiastically. “I'm Viktor. And what a coincidence! This is Yuri too. He's currently training - ”

“I'm an EMT in training,” Yuri interrupts. He's pleased to see Yuuri's attention dragged back to him and Viktor's face fall in a frown as Yuuri pulls his hand away. Hah. Trust that Viktor is the one idiot in the city who doesn't know of Yuuri already. “And next year, I'll be taking the written tests to be a firefighter,” he adds with a bit of hesitation. 

He tenses up, puffing out his chest, anticipating and prepared for the worst. It wouldn't be the first time someone's sized him up and scoffed at his dreams. He might not be a total meathead but he's bulking up properly and he’s close to performing all of the necessary lifts. 

“I look forward to seeing you in the Academy then,” Yuuri says, eyes lighting up. “I’m usually a guest lecturer for a few sessions. And you’ll be a welcome addition to the team when you graduate.”

Yuri bites his lip to hide the grin trying to break free. That would be totally uncool. He should’ve known better than to doubt Yuuri. He gives him a manly nod. “Looking forward to it.”

Makka-mutt noses eagerly at Yuuri's legs and Yuuri bends over stiffly at the waist, pulling his glove off his hand. 

“And who’s this handsome fellow?” Yuuri inquires. 

Viktor makes a funny choking noise and Yuri kicks him subtly when an answer isn't forthcoming. 

“That's Makka-m - Makkachin,” Yuri says - only to make things less awkward. Viktor is having a coughing fit. What an idiot. 

“Hello Makkachin,” Yuuri coos, giving him his hand to sniff. 

Makkachin is making fast friends with Yuuri, putting his paws up against his leg and whining eagerly for more pets. 

Yuuri straightens up and smiles. He looks as professional as possible with a dog licking his hand. “Sorry for the interruption. We’re here about a cat in a tree?”

Yuri’s heart jumps into his throat. Shit. He hasn't heard Potya in a while. His eyes snap upwards. To his relief, Potya is supervising them with a snooty look down her nose. 

Viktor clears his throat. “Ah, yes. Makkachin scared Potya up the tree.”

Yuri scoffs, outraged at this unfounded accusation. “You mean she performed evasive maneuvers.”

Viktor's smile is bedazzling and full of teeth. “We’re so worried about Potya. Thank you for coming. If you could lend us a ladder, that would be wonderful.”

Yuri is ready to kick Viktor. He just needs to locate the nearest canyon to drop him down into.

“Better let the professional handle it,” says another fireman who comes up to the group, clapping his arm around Yuuri's shoulder with ease and familiarity. 

Yuuri huffs a little sigh but doesn't move away. “Phichit. You're going to give me a reputation.”

“You already _have_ a well-deserved reputation,” Phichit says with a snort. “Everyone knows that rescuing animals is your specialty and you sulk if you're not included in those calls.”

“I do not sulk,” Yuuri objects. “It's protesting. Vehemently. There's a difference.”

Phichit nods. “It's good PR for the department.” He gestures at the tree. “Up you go! We shouldn't be dallying. Twitter hashtags don't trend by themselves.”

Yuuri turns back to Yuri and Viktor, inclining his head in apology. “You'll have to excuse Phichit. What he meant is that I insist on going on all of the animal rescue calls as I have the most experience.”

“Oh not a bother at all,” Viktor chirps, hands waving inanely in the air. 

Yuuri gives Makkachin one last pet on the head and hands his helmet and gloves to Phichit. He turns to survey the situation. 

Phichit heads back to the truck and emerges shortly with another firefighter, ladder in hand. They prop it up against the tree.

Finished with his inspection, Yuuri takes his jacket off, the velcro snaps pulling away with a satisfying schwipping sound, as he walks back toward them. He holds his jacket out. “Can you please hang onto this for me?” 

Yuri reaches out eagerly but Viktor swoops in at the last second with his stupid spaghetti arms and snags it.

“Gladly,” Viktor says, holding his prize tightly to his chest.

“We need an extra hand here to hold the ladder steady,” Phichit calls out. 

Yuri smirks at Viktor and puts extra pep in his step as he struts over to help with the important task. Yuuri is rolling his shoulders and pulling his arms above his head to crack his knuckles. Yuri eyes Yuuri’s suspenders with envy. They show visible signs of honest use with smudges of soot sullying the bright orange. They must've seen Yuuri through countless dangerous situations. 

As it turns out, there's really no need to have hands steadying the ladder. It’s sturdy enough and Yuuri is experienced, climbing with easy confidence while cooing quietly at Potya. 

Still, Yuri is glad to have the opportunity to observe a rescue closely. Potya’s head is cocked towards Yuuri. As he continues to talk to her, she visibly relaxes, shoulders falling down and tail flattening out again. Yuuri offers her his hand to sniff and she gives it a perfunctory review. It apparently meets her satisfaction; she jumps onto Yuuri's shoulder without further prompting. 

The descent is just as steady and as they get close to the bottom, Potya twists around and jumps into Yuri's waiting arms. 

He lifts her to his face and gives her a discreet kiss. She gave him quite the scare today but he is proud of her sharp survival skills. 

Yuuri hops off the ladder, brushing off his hands on his pants. Viktor comes rushing forward. Yuuri reaches out for his jacket and shrugs it on, not bothering with doing up the open sides again. 

Yuri feels a thrill of excitement running down his spine. He looks like a real hero. “Thanks,” he says, swallowing down his nerves. 

“My pleasure, Yuri,” Yuuri says cheerfully. He turns to Viktor and gives him a nod. “It was nice meeting you too, Viktor. Thanks for holding my jacket.”

Phichit pulls a phone out of his pocket and waves it in the air. “A commemorative photo for the department’s Twitter?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, tugging on his arm sharply. He turns back to them. “Please excuse him. He lost his manners and never found them again.”

“I don't mind,” Viktor says brightly. 

Phichit takes this as permission, herding a protesting Yuuri next to Viktor. 

Yuri's eyebrows jump up. Oh hoh. Now this is interesting. Viktor can't deny meeting Yuuri if there's photographic proof. And all of the guys down at the station are sure to laugh their pants off at their sergeant posing with a firefighter. 

He crowds into the middle, ignoring Viktor's indignant yelp. Potya is the well-deserving star of this afternoon after all.


	2. Chapter 2

“CHRIS. IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

Chris’ training kicks in automatically. He balances his cell phone between his ear and shoulder, hands reaching out for his keyboard and mouse to start keying in details only to falter with his arms outstretched like an ineffectual zombie. He blinks. Neither item are within immediate reach seeing as he's standing in the middle of Whole Foods, staring at a display of avocados. 

“Viktor,” Chris says with the patience born from being the best friend to essentially an excitable puppy since elementary school. “As a professional and for the sake of the city’s liability insurance, I must inform you that if this is a real emergency, please hang up and dial 911 to be routed properly.”

“What? Don't be silly,” Viktor huffs at a slightly more moderate volume. “This is an _emergency_.”

Chris fumbles with tugging his earphones out of his pocket, shaking the tangled cord loose. He plugs in and tucks his phone into his back pocket, leaving both hands free for produce selecting duties.

“What is the nature of your emergency? Will you require an ambulance?” he inquires dryly. Now that the initial adrenaline rush is fading, he has an extremely good guess as to why Viktor is calling. 

“Maybe? I just met the most beautiful man in the world and my heartbeat is irregular.” Viktor punctuates his sentence with a long forlorn sigh. 

Chris laughs. “I see you met Yuuri. Don't worry about the old ticker. That's just the Yuuri Effect. Known side effects include falling hopelessly in love and scaring the shit out of your best friend.”

“Oh, so you _did_ send him on purpose,” Viktor chirps. “You are an excellent best friend. Have I mentioned that lately?”

“You're welcome,” Chris says graciously. And then, because he needs to rub it in a bit for his own sanity, he adds, “I've only been trying to introduce you two for the past year. This is the friend from dance class that I've been telling you about. It's about time.”

A half strangled noise comes over the phone followed by a loud thunk. Chris winces and hurriedly lowers the volume on his phone. This call is hazardous to his health.

“You have?” Viktor says. “And he's single? And he dances?!” A note of plaintive hope creeps into his voice even as it goes high and reedy at each new revelation. It's utterly endearing. 

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Chris says. He has the patience of a saint and a reputation as a matchmaking Cupid to protect. “Did you ask him out?”

“I’m not you,” Viktor says. “It would've been weird. He was working.”

“True,” Chris concedes. Viktor is charming but still not on his same level. “Good move.”

“He’s so amazing. He likes Makkachin,” Viktor reports brightly. “And Makka loves him. He was whining when Yuuri left.”

Chris makes suitable sympathetic noises and tucks two avocados into his shopping cart before walking over to select peppers. He has a feeling that if it was socially acceptable, Viktor would've whined right along with his poodle. “I can text you his number if you want?”

There's a long pause. Chris can practically hear the cogs in Viktor's head turning. 

“No, that's okay,” Viktor says decisively. “That would be breaking his trust with you. I don't want you to jeopardize your friendship with him.”

Chris smiles to himself. Viktor is so noble. It's one of his best features. “Any plans on how to see him again then? I can set up a group dinner? Or you can join our dance class?” 

“Well, actually. I’m thinking of dropping by his firehouse with a thank you gift. Is that too cliche?” 

Chris sighs fondly. Viktor who can recite several Disney movies from memory, Viktor who dressed up as Prince Charming for three Halloweens in a row in recent history, Viktor who legit handed his senior year prom date a crown made of blue roses, Viktor who has numerous Pinterest boards meticulously organized with wedding inspirations - that very same Viktor is worried about being cliche. 

“No, that's a lovely gesture,” Chris says reassuringly. “Very thoughtful and polite.” It _is_ a bit cliche but classics work for a reason and Yuuri is a sap. Chris very carefully does not point out that their whole relationship will be predicated on another cliche of the fireman rescue if it moves forward. No - wait. There's no way that his two friends aren't a perfect match for each other. Make that _when_ it moves forward. 

“Super,” Viktor chirps. “I have some cookie recipes I've been meaning to try out.”

Chris’ eyebrows fly up in alarm, hand freezing around an onion. “Maybe a lovely gift basket from Murray’s Cheese? Or if you're going for healthy, Harry & David pears are in season.”

“Nonsense,” Viktor says briskly. “How better to show my appreciation than home baked goods?”

Chris is not one to squash dreams and it is clear that stubborn Viktor will not be dissuaded from the distinct vision he has in mind. And, Yuuri will be surrounded by highly trained and skilled EMTs. He will be okay… surely.

\--

Viktor pulls the third batch of cookies from the oven, hope deflating rapidly as they come into view. 

Instead of a sweet treat worthy enough for Yuuri, he’s produced a pile of molten lava rocks glazed with despair. They look wholly unappetizing and smell like burned sugar. 

Viktor sighs. How is this possible? He diligently studied several Food Network shows on baking and followed the recipe precisely. 

His oven is surely cursed and the most unromantic piece of equipment ever. 

\--

Phichit whistles low, not bothering to hide the slow once over he gives Viktor, letting his eyes linger appreciatively on details like how nicely his shoulders fill out the well-tailored jacket and the understated shine of quality leather in his belt and shoes. “You clean up well, Sergeant Nikiforov,” he says. 

Viktor's eyebrows knit together briefly before smoothing out. “Ah, thank you.” He gives Phichit a sheepish smile. “Idioms still throw me for a loop sometimes. And please - just call me Viktor.”

Phichit grins. Good sense of humor. The accent - Russian? - is a nice touch. Yuuri may protest but Phichit knows he has a _thing_ for voices. “That's the spirit,” he says cheerily. 

Viktor is polite, sweet, and although not Phichit's type, objectively devastatingly hot. He's Chris’ friend too so it's a fifty-fifty toss up that he's normal or weird. As a major plus in his favor, Viktor has a cute dog and Yuuri definitely noticed the dog. Yuuri fawned over Makkachin’s soft fur and smart bow tie on the entire ride back to the firehouse. His best friend needs to start putting himself out there for dates and Viktor is shaping up to be an excellent candidate. 

Speaking of, Phichit turns his attention to Viktor expectantly, waiting for him to continue the conversation thread. Unfortunately, Viktor is unresponsive, eyes staring unblinkingly at the wall behind Phichit’s head. 

Phichit turns his head, snorting as he follows Viktor's line of sight to the object in question. “Admiring our calendar?” he teases. 

September features an open shirt Yuuri with suspenders falling off his shoulders and what could be generously described as boxer briefs but with the immodest length, were fairly solidly in booty shorts territory. The piece de resistance is Yuuri's legs wrapped elegantly around a fireman’s pole as he stretches backwards, hands nearly touching the rest of his uniform arranged in artfully careless piles on the floor. 

Viktor physically swivels his head back to meet Phichit’s eyes, blinking rapidly. 

Phichit bites his lower lip to hide a grin. “Lovely isn't it?” he says casually. “The Firemen of New York calendar is a bestseller every year not only in the city but around the country. The proceeds are all for charity, of course,” he says proudly. It's hard work to coordinate all of the photo shoots for the calendar on top of his regular communications duties but Phichit takes his fundraising role seriously and it's always gratifying to see the amount raised for the FDNY Foundation.

“Amazing,” Viktor confirms with enthusiasm. “For charity you said? I would love to support. Where can I buy a copy?”

Phichit bursts into laughter. 

Viktor raises his eyebrows and looks adorably lost. 

Phichit cuts himself short. Oh. Viktor is serious. “Well, it's already September,” he says slowly. “If you hurry, you can sign up for the email list to get notified when sales start for the 2018 calendar. I highly recommend it. Last year, we were out of stock for the first print run in a week.”

Viktor's jaw drops. To his credit, he recovers quickly. 

“Where can I sign up? And are you sure you can't be convinced to part with your copy?” Viktor's eyes are bright and hopeful. 

Phichit is nobody's fool. He can tell that those eyes usually get Viktor what he wants. Phichit sees a fundraising opportunity and walks right into it shamelessly. “I might be convinced to sell you a digital copy,” he says. “Depending on what you have there in your hands. Is that a gift for us?” 

Phichit has been on the receiving end of a gift basket countless times before to know very well that it is exactly just that in Viktor's hands. The firehouse is the de facto address for Yuuri's fan club headquarters with a daily parade of his resourceful admirers and grateful citizens bringing their tributes on the days Yuuri is scheduled for duty. With his visible role as spokesman for the department, Phichit is no slouch in racking up admirers for himself either. 

Phichit watches in amusement as Viktor tries and fails miserably at subtlety in looking around the floor. There's not much to see. Much of the ground level is occupied by the trucks and the walls are lined with maintenance tools and spare equipment. 

“Ah, yes. To thank everyone for rescuing Potya yesterday,” Viktor says. 

Phichit smiles sweetly. Major donor and Yuuri date prospect withstanding, Viktor is going to have to work for this one. 

“I was hoping - I mean wondering if Yuuri is around? So I could thank him personally,” Viktor says with an equally brilliant smile of his own. 

Phichit hums his approval and clicks into Yuuri's Outlook calendar. “You're in luck. It looks like he's just wrapping up his previous appointment.”

He picks up his deskphone and punches in Yuuri's extension. It rings through immediately. “Hey, Minami. Can you ask Yuuri to hurry downstairs? There's something here I want him to see.” At Minami’s enthusiastic response, he hangs up. 

Viktor is practically vibrating with excitement next to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot restlessly. Phichit gestures to the right. “Yuuri will be down shortly.”

It's laughably easy to mark the precise second that Yuuri makes his way down to the first floor. Viktor sucks his breath in sharply and Phichit reaches out in the nick of time to take custody of the Tupperware in Viktor's hands. 

Yuuri sliding down a fireman pole would knock stronger flirts off of their A game, let alone someone who is already as clearly smitten as Viktor. Yuuri only needs to breathe in Viktor's general direction now to seal the deal. 

Yuuri walks up briskly. “Hey, Phichit. Minami said it was urgent?”

Phichit basks in the feeling of the universe aligning with his wishes. He couldn't have planned it better if he tried. Yuuri is mopping sweat off his face with a towel and he's wearing a tight fitting tank that shows off his arms and trim waist to full effect. Picture perfect. He heroically resists the urge to pick up his phone to snap a pic and settles for making a mental note to recreate this image in the studio. It's great material as a bonus shot for next year’s calendar or maybe even as a main spread. 

“Yuuri,” Phichit chirps. “Viktor was dropping by and wanted to say hi.”

Yuuri snaps his head up and takes several steps backward before freezing in place, hand clutched around the towel. He glares daggers at Phichit. 

Phichit stretches his foot out and gives Yuuri a helpful nudge. Yuuri can yell at him later but this is definitely not a miscalculation. Fresh from the gym Yuuri is major eye candy. It is an undisputable fact. 

“Hi, Viktor,” Yuuri says. He squints. “Ah, or do you prefer Sergeant?”

Viktor’s cheeks are a matching pink to Yuuri. “Please. Call me Viktor. I'm usually not this formal. I'm only in my dress blues today as it's CompStat day.”

Yuuri nods along, eyes glazed over as they slide down Viktor's body. “Of course,” he says. 

Phichit clears his throat - way too much eye fucking happening now with him caught in the middle - and lifts the lid off of the Tupperware container. “Viktor brought us treats as a thank you for yesterday.” He sniffs appreciatively as a wave of sugary sweetness hits the air. 

“Oh, you shouldn't have,” Yuuri says with a frown. 

Phichit huffs his disagreement. Yuuri drops a hand on his shoulder with more force than necessary, poking him sharply in the back with his thumb. 

Phichit grits his teeth and steps on Yuuri's foot. Due to the awkward angle, there's not much leverage he can get but it’s better than nothing.

“It was no trouble at all to rescue Potya,” Yuuri adds firmly. 

Yuuri thankfully eases up with his thumb. 

“It’s the least I can do!” Viktor insists happily. “They're freshly baked.”

Yuuri bites his lower lip, eying the cookies on Phichit’s desk. He's probably estimating the calories and calculating the extra gym hours he would need to put in to work off the treat. How horrifyingly pragmatic.

Unburdened by any such strings and with zero compunctions about gym time with his excellent metabolism, Phichit picks out a chocolate on chocolate cookie, biting down eagerly. It flakes apart in his mouth beautifully. “You have to try this, Yuuri,” he says around a mouthful of pure sugar, chocolate, and butter bliss. “It tastes just like Levain cookies.” He breaks off a piece and offers it to Yuuri. 

Viktor coughs, face turning an alarming shade of red. “Actually, they _are_ Levain,” he says sheepishly. “The Tupperware is to keep them fresh. I didn't mean to give the impression that I baked them myself. I’m so sorry. I mean, I tried but let’s just say I promise I'm not totally useless in the kitchen. I’m a much better cook than baker.”

Phichit is duly impressed. Viktor is honest to a fault. Not many men would have the integrity or gumption to clear up such a mix-up. Viktor may apparently be a shitty baker, but he is doing well to compensate this flaw with a good taste in bakeries and an eagerness to court Yuuri properly. 

Still, absence makes the heart grow fonder, etc. etc. Phichit stands up and places his hand on Viktor's back, shepherding him bodily toward the front door. “Well, Yuuri and I have important business to discuss. I'll dm you on Twitter about the electronic copy. And if you return next Monday at 8 am, it'll be perfect timing to pick up your Tupperware.”

Viktor does his rank proud, taking in this barrage of information with only a slightly baffled look before nodding furiously. “Right. The Tupperware. I'll be back to pick it up.”

“On Monday at 8,” Phichit reaffirms helpfully. He beams benevolently at Viktor. “We are going to be _excellent_ friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who expressed interest in seeing more of this AU :D I appreciated all the comments, kudos, and subscribes <3
> 
> I have a few more ideas floating around but for the sake of not having three WIP going at once, I will mark this as 2 chapters for now. I really like this AU and hope to flesh it out more after I make headway on my other fics :}
> 
> Apologies for maligning or getting anything wrong about fire and police departments. This is a wholly self-indulgent fic with minimal background research. I really just wanted to write Yuuri + fireman pole = YAAAAAAASSSSSSS


End file.
